


at your throat

by orphan_account



Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: M/M, they just fuck, without written fucking although its heavily implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-20
Updated: 2014-02-20
Packaged: 2018-01-13 03:27:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1210870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Noiz's breath is warm and skitters across his skin, and it strikes Koujaku then just how close their faces were, how easily he could lean forward and capture the taste of sweet wine and sake and Noiz on his tongue--but he doesn't, a low groan stuttering past his lips as Noiz tightens his fingers further into the skin of his wrists, far too close to breaking skin and spilling blood.</p><p>alternatively; it just so happens that they fit together perfectly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	at your throat

Kiss me, Noiz says, and the corners of Koujaku’s lips turn down.

Noiz closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. His eyes, stupidly bright and a vivid shade of viridian, meet his once more, and he replies impassively, expression cool. "You heard me."

Koujaku’s frown deepens, hardening into a scowl--the corner of his mouth twists down and he finds himself unable to bite back the snarky remark that flies from his lips. “Yeah, I did. ‘s kind of hard to ignore that obnoxious voice of yours, brat. It isn’t that I didn’t hear you; I don’t care enough to hear whatever else you have to say.”

Noiz’s eyes narrow, and he tilts his chin at the hairdresser in a frustratingly self-important fashion, his jaw tightening minutely and Koujaku’s fingers twitch as the urge to knock the smug look off his face strikes harder than it ever has before, and briefly, Koujaku wonders if Noiz would still look so smug with his hands locked around his throat.

What a lovely thought. He would have to try that, maybe when Noiz stopped glaring up at him, face impassive, eyes ablaze. “I knew you were old-fashioned and closed-minded, old man, but I wasn’t aware it was this bad--no wonder you’re sticking to outdated things like Rib.” To that, the taller man grit his teeth and snapped back, “Oh, quiet. Spare me the fucking pain; all you ever do is gripe and whine and complain like the brat you are.”

The Rhymer’s eyes glint dangerously, feral and Noiz reaches forward and up with bandaged fingers, nails scraping Koujaku’s chest and leaving behind a faint stinging trail before grabbing a tight hold on the fabric and pulling him down to his height. It isn’t too much of a way down, but it’s enough to make Koujaku stumble, and Noiz smirks up at him before forcing a knee into his stomach, effectively knocking the air out of him.

In seconds, he’s lying on his back and he kicks his leg out, stifling a triumphant smile when Noiz grunts as he falls, with a satisfying thud, to the floor. Scrambling none too gracefully to gain the upper hand, he moves further forward only to be kicked violently in the shoulders, a curse word slipping out past his lips as Noiz gains the upper hand, straddling his waist and pressing an arm to his throat. 

"You're supposed to put up a fight. Just so you know." Noiz drawls, voice velvet, eyes smoldering and Koujaku bristles and only tries harder to escape. "Come on, old man--you can try harder than that." If it weren't for the dark amusement lurking behind the words, it would've seemed as though Noiz was encouraging him.

Of course not.

With a choking breath, Koujaku braced himself and then slammed his elbow up into Noiz's mouth, and with a sputtering cough, the younger was tumbling off him from the force of the hit, spitting blood out his mouth before glaring back at him and striking out with his fists.

It was somewhat of a dance from that point on, each attack returned and every hit, slap, and bite there was another waiting to be given back; neither seemed to show signs of stopping until Noiz kicked Koujaku's legs out from under him. He was pulled down as well, however, and the fight resumed on the floor until Noiz found his way back to Koujaku's waist, both of the older man's wrists locked tightly in place with his own hands.

Noiz's breath is warm and skitters across his skin, and it strikes Koujaku then just how close their faces were, how easily he could lean forward and capture the taste of sweet wine and sake and Noiz on his tongue--but he doesn't, a low groan stuttering past his lips as Noiz tightens his fingers further into the skin of his wrists, far too close to breaking skin and spilling blood.

Their lips meet, and there is nothing gentle about the kiss. Lips are planted against one another, again and again and again, wandering, curious but open-mouthed and sloppy. Noiz’s hands tighten around Koujaku’s wrists, pressing them further into the ground as he moved from his lips to his neck, teeth pulling at scarred skin and peeling cloth away from skin. 

Finally releasing his hands, Noiz moves his fingers to scratch down his chest, leaving faint red marks in their wake so that he could scratch at the bandages clinging tightly to Koujaku’s tanned skin. With little to no hesitation, he tears off the bandages in a swift movement of his arm, tugging his kimono further apart while barely even sparing a glance downward. 

Their breathing is heavy and hot when they break away, skin crisscrossed with bruises and bite marks and scratches, eyes wide and fixed on each other until they’re pushed together again, Koujaku knocking that stupid hat off Noiz’s head and tangling in his hair, pulling none too gently and drawing out a hiss from Noiz’s parted lips. 

Oh, yes.

It was going to be a looong night.

**Author's Note:**

> jeez la fucking louise


End file.
